Where are you now?
by Chewie
Summary: SHinji reflects on his previous experiances with Asuka.


*Disclaimer* ****

Where Are You Now?

*Disclaimer*

This thing just says that these are not my characters or concepts. They belong to Gainax Limited. If you want to complain, send it to Gainax, if you want to congratulate me, send it to me, hehe.

I guess the first time I saw her would have been when we went to the Super Carrier "Over the Rainbow". I remember thinking what a great girl. I had not even met her yet, and already I was taken with her. Then I saw how she acted. At first it disgusted me, but after a while, I saw bits and pieces of the real Asuka. The fragile one. Every now and then she would thank me, or say something nice. These times were few and far between, and it took me a long time to realize what I felt. I loved her.

I remember one morning, I got up, and started making dinner, and when I was about halfway along, she came in to help. Misato had made it a rule that she help, and pull her weight around the house. I could tell that she was not accustomed to housework. She grumbled, and complained. But this morning, she came in without a word, and started helping me out. I asked her to hand me something, and when she did, my arm brushed by her, and we made skin contact. The electrical feeling was like a 9-volt battery being laid to me. 

After a moment of silence, we went back to work, and I assume that she forgot it, but I didn't. I thought about it for that whole day. Touji and Kensuke both chided and made fun of me about thinking about the "witch", but I didn't pay much attention. They had never had feelings such as these, and they did not know Asuka the way I did. That night, she went to bed early, and I decided that I ought to also, but when finally I did get into bed, I could not go to sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about her. The images of her perfect face would not leave me, and tortured I was lying in the dark, thinking about her as though she were the only thing in the world. I felt as though there were something that I needed to do to relive the tension, so I stood up, and went to the door. The house was dark, so I padded down the hall, and cracked her door just a little. Peeking inside, I watched her rhythmic breathing, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair fell across the pillow, the way she whimpered in her sleep. There was a feeling in my heart as though it would explode from the longing and the want. 

I cried, ashamed of myself. I didn't have the courage to say anything to her or even look at her this closely when she was awake, so instead I waited until she was asleep to let my emotions come out. How cowardly am I? 

A few weeks later, I played my cello. The day was a sad one and I was feeling more depressed than ever. That was the anniversary of my mother's "death". I played Bach's Concerto for Cello No. 1, and just the prelude. It was a very moving piece. It reminded me of the pain that I felt from her departure. I don't know how long she listened, but she applauded for me, ad even said "That's very nice, Shinji. I didn't know you played." At last! She was interested in something that I did. I tried to explain to her that I didn't know why I still played, but I don't think she understood. 

She became bored, and decided that she wanted to practice kissing. I had never kissed a girl before, and it was a new experience for me. Unfortunately, she held my nose, and wouldn't let me breath. The kiss was wonderful, the emotions I had felt that night, standing at her door, resurfaced and took me over. However, by the time the kiss had ended, I was running very short on air, and nearly gagged when she broke the kiss, trying to pump as much air into my lungs as possible. That night I lay alone again. The loneliness overtook me, and I despaired over it. Why must I e alone. Watched others who had friends and loved ones, and boyfriends or girlfriends, and I didn't. No one to care for, no one to be care for by. There was no real point to live but to find that one and I wanted it to be Asuka. That night, a single tear rolled down my cheek, a testament to my restraint, or my continued cowardliness.

After the angel raped (I don't like that term, but it fits with what it did to her) her mind, she was so vulnerable. I waited by her bed for hours at a time, sometimes through the night. I remember crying into her hands, putting them against my face. It was almost like I wanted her to slap me. Any kind of contact from her would have sufficed, but it would not come. I saw my hopeful love leaving before my eyes, fleeing from me, but I held on to it. I remained hopeful. Then she woke up, I detected a brief moment of love in her eyes, and then it hardened as the memories that had welled to the surface due to the encounter with the angel were brought to the fore. She cried. She laughed. She screamed. She grew quiet. The look in her eyes changed from sorrow to hatred, deep and black, evil, to love, and then to despair again. The memories were too much for her. 

I tried to be of help, I tried to console her, but she wouldn't let me. She pushed me away, called me names, and finally told me, no, commanded me to leave. I was glad that she was awake, but I was saddened that she wouldn't let me in. I wanted so much to share her pain, to lessen the load, and to help her through her hard times. I waited for her to fall asleep again, and went back in. I had planned just to sit there for a while, but fate had dealt me a wild card, and for once it was good. I went to sleep, and I awoke to the gentle brushing of fingernails across the back of my neck, playing with my hair. My forehead had rested on her thigh, and even though the sheets were between us, it was the softest, most relaxing pillow I had ever rested against…

I slowly raised my head, and looked at her. She stared back at me, her blue eyes boring into my soul. Her eyebrows knotted together, and she let out a short sigh. Without a word, she leaned forward, and pulled me toward her. She encircled me in her embrace, and we hugged that way for many long minutes. Then she withdrew just a little, and turned her head, and kissed me. Not the breath steeling kiss that we had shared before, but this one a kiss of love and passion… I loved her more then than I have ever loved anyone or anything before.

Now I sit in my Eva, the taste of her mouth still fresh on my lips, slowly dying, hoping to be rescued from the angel, and wondering…. Where are you now…my Asuka?

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